


The Space He Left

by JaneAire



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Cuddling, Five years after Noctis' disappearance, Fluff, Ignis is the best big spoon 2k17, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Sex, Promnis - Freeform, Prompto has a potty mouth, Prompto jumps Ignis' bones, Sharing a Bed, Some mild Gladio dragging, Spooning, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 04:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12183165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneAire/pseuds/JaneAire
Summary: "I'm sorry I was gone for so long," Prompto whispered, nuzzling where Ignis' collar had fallen open with his nose, feeling oddly melancholy for a moment that should've been joyous. He knew he'd have to leave again, soon, though. It was looming over them, ugly and heavy like the rain clouds in the back of Prompto's mind.Ignis hushed him again, playing with the downy hairs at the nape of Prompto's neck with his strong fingers and pressing another kiss to his temple. "Prompto, I assure you it's so much more relieving to me that you are alive and unharmed and here," he crooned in a husky voice, punctuating the last words by squeezing his arms around Prompto's waist, pulling him tighter. He froze. "You are unharmed, yes?"Ignis and Prompto find comfort in one another after Noct's disappearance. Promnis.





	The Space He Left

The sound of the key in the lock didn't disturb Ignis in the slightest. Had it been a year or so ago he may have tensed up, gave pause as his ears strained for the sound, attempting to make out if the breathing or footsteps were something familiar to him. Now, however, he simply jutted his chin to the side and continued washing his hands at the silver steel sink, almost as if he were glancing over his shoulder, but instead listened for the sound of familiar footsteps. There was no need for fear, not anymore--there were only a few people with a key to his apartment, after all. 

He hadn't been expecting Iris and Talcott tonight, but it wasn't unlike them to stop by unannounced. He did wish he would've known they were coming in advance, however--the two of them could out eat Gladiolus anyday. 

It had been four years now, and Ignis still wasn't entirely sure if their company was genuine interest, or pity. He remembered they were equally alone. 

 

Gladio hadn't been to the apartment in weeks now, going on almost a month. For someone who paid most of the rent, he spent very little time in his bed. 

Ignis tried not to dwell on it. 

Prompto paid more than his share, often over exerting himself to pick up the slack when the rent was due and Gladio was no where to be seen. Ignis was getting the point to where he was decent on a hunt, but only if someone else was with him. He'd be better with practice. 

Not that Gladio was ever around to practice with him. 

The jingling of keys was inside the apartment now, and Ignis painted on a cordial smile as he wiped his hands off with a kitchen towel, soft and worn with overuse, wringing it excessively between his bare hands. He'd fetch his gloves in a moment. 

"Hello," Ignis called out, smiling for the visitor. 

The scuff of boots was a shock to his system as they rucked carelessly across the wood floor, doubtlessly leaving a trail of muck behind them. Ignis had long since stop enforcing the no shoes inside rule--not only because Noctis had always ignored him, but because now he needed the verification with the identity, and perhaps the mucked floors were worth it. He had little to do during the day anyway besides torture (re:babysit) Talcott and mop anyway. 

"Hey, Iggy," a tired voice called as Ignis' faux smile fell in favor of a softer one, only a little tired, a little sad. 

"Prompto," Ignis greeted, and the intruder smiled softly at how the advisor's demeanor had flipped off his political aid routine, easing into something more organic in his presence. His shoulders curved in comfortably, leaning his hip against the counter. 

Prompto took a moment to slip his boots off and slide them under the table--a habit he still had to consciously remember, as to not trip Ignis--and dropped his jacket into the hamper nearby. Prompto was surprised to find it empty. 

"Big guy isn't back yet?" He called quizzically as Ignis had turned back to supper, immediately pulling an extra plate out for Prompto. "Saw him a few days ago and said he'd be in soon." 

Ignis tried to not show the flash of annoyance he felt as he turned to face his younger friend, grinning instead, albeit a bit strained and bitter. "It must not have been the same Gladiolus who called three days ago and told Iris it would be another two weeks yet until he returned." 

Prompto's face fell immediately, wincing at Ignis' expression. He wasn't wearing his glasses--the apartment itself was dimly lit, a lamp on in the living room and the overheads on in the small cooking space. The light helped to keep the apartment warmer, if it didn't necessarily serve it's purpose with it's primary tenant. 

"Asshole," Prom muttered, despite himself, rubbing angrily across his mouth with the back of his hand. It came away dark, sort of a grimy, and Prompto was reminded he needed an immediate shower. 

"I'm sure it was to spare your feelings," Ignis ammended amicably, despite the grimace on his own face. Prompto snorted mirthlessly, his blue eyes startling bright with anger. 

"He said it so I wouldn't chew him out." 

"You wouldn't chew him out, period, I hope?" Ignis called as Prompto began to pad down the hall to the shared bathroom. 

"Yeah," he called back in a voice he hoped was convincing--Iggy always knew when he was lying--but he wasn't even certain he cared at this point, before announcing he needed to shower. 

They'd never fought in front of Ignis, and Prompto didn't even _like_ fighting with Gladio, ya know? He didn't get anything from it, the big guy didn't listen to anyone but himself. It was like all of his responsibilities one by one were getting picked off like flies--Insomnia? Check. Noctis? Double check. Prompto wondered if he'd even come back, if not for Iris. 

Prom knew he wouldn't come back if he didn't blame himself for what happened to Iggy. 

It wasn't that Iggy couldn't fend for himself--he could, and Prom knew he was a damn better fighter than he was, he knew that. It's just that it was dangerous to go alone, even for someone with all of their sense in tact. 

He'd rather look out for Ignis and see him safe than send him out on his own, even if it meant working till his fingers bled. 

Oh. 

The water had stopped running a grimy grey as it sludged it's way down the drain, and instead had turned a watery pink that made Prompto's stomach turn with the association of it all. Even when it rained, Prompto felt a sense of dread wash over him--memories were vibrant in the darkness, everyone of them. Luna, Noct, Ignis. 

It _hurt_. 

"Shit," he muttered, calloused fingers probing around his wet skin as he searched for his injury, only to find a half healed and newly opened wound at his hip--the scab must've peeled off in the hot spray. Prompto grumbled as he pressed the rag to his hip, bitterly noting just another decorative scar to marr across his stomach. Benefits to the world of ruin, he supposed, were the blinding darkness--no one to glimpse his imperfections if they couldn't fucking see. 

Toweling off, however, he felt eons better, looking at his ruddy skin without a layer (or three) of dirt made him feel sort of human again. 

You know, if human was actually something Prompto was. Hmm. 

Slipping into sweats and one of Gladio's tanks, and deciding that Ignis' rules about dinner etiquette could get fucking bent, he slipping on glasses and combed out his hair, the bandage at his hip wrinkling slightly as he padded his way back into the kitchen. 

Ignis was still leaning against the counter, his hip cocked into slightly, and his other hand holding a steam cup of what smelled to be ebony--Prompto would kill for some, at this point. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd eaten, either. 

"Feeling better?" Ignis hummed in his direction, and Prompto realized the radio was on, playing so softly that he'd barely heard it. 

"Butt tons better," Prompto sighed, skirting around Ignis to pour himself some coffee. It was late (at least his watch said it was, it always looked fucking late, so what did it matter what time Prompto slept if his biological clock was so fucked any) but he'd rather stay up with Ignis and talk than resign himself to the cold, empty mattress on the floor of his room. 

Ignis snorted, a welcome sound, and Prompto turned to stare at him with a soft smile. He was dressed impeccably, as always, khaki slacks and a powder blue button up, open at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows thanks the steam of the kitchen. His hair--beginning to get too long, probably waiting for either Prompto or Gladio (re: definitely Prompto) to help him cut it--was slicked away from his face, as if he'd hurriedly styled it this morning or ran out of gel, but there were bags on the counter top that signaled he'd been to the marker recently. 

He wasn't wearing his gloves, and Prompto stared unabashedly at the soft red lines etched across the backs of his hands--burn scars, when he'd first been practicing the magic with Noct. Prompto used to take comfort in the imperfections on Ignis, it had helped humanize him, helped Prompto relate. 

Glancing at the scarring on his face made Prompto realize he couldn't relate, not really. Ignis looked younger without the glasses, the eyelashes of his good eye brushed at the soft apple of his cheek. 

Prompto pushed back the thoughts of how unfair it was that Ignis still looked beautiful after everything, feeling disgusting for the jealousy it brewed deep in his gut. He couldn't help but not like Ignis when they'd first met--when Ignis was obviously the most handsome, and Prompto had to tear himself apart just to look tolerable. 

It made him sick to think about. 

"How went the hunt?" Ignis asked, the corner of his rose petal mouth lifted in a kind smirk, as if he felt that Prompto needed some kind of cheering up. 

_You mean hunts. Plural._ He tried not to sigh--Ignis could hear _everything_ now with his freaky bat hearing, which included through walls, to Prompto's mortification. Prom shrugged, before amending audibly, "Paid the rent." 

Ignis frowned, his eyebrows furrowing low over his eyes in concern, leaning against the kitchen wall now to better face Prompto. "That awful?" 

Prompto couldn't conjure up what to say to Ignis that wasn't laced with a deep guilt, so he let his coffee mug clink against the counter, sloshing the bitter liquid over the side--it would stain, but Iggy would be none the wiser--and crossed the distance between them in a few short strides, giving Ignis a moment to read the situation audibly before he dove into Ignis, wrapping his arms around the advisor's middle. 

Prompto didn't know how to tell Ignis about how much it fucking sucked--the nights alone in the tent, the eternal darkness, the eternal daemons--because Ignis already knew it fucking sucked. 

But he was doing it for Ignis, because someone deserved to look after Ignis, because no one else was going to, and because Ignis had looked after them for years without so much as a complaint. 

Ignis was warm, and, after so many nights in a cold tent, it was wonderful just to trace his nose down the column of Ignis' throat, pressing his face against the juncture of where his shoulder met his neck. Knotting his hands in Ignis' shirt, he winced a little when he remembered he still had blood under his nails, but held fast regardless, pinning Ignis between himself and the wall. 

To his credit, Ignis didn't miss a beat. Prom wanted to chalk it up to him taking care of Noctis for so long, but part of him hoped it was instinct, the way Ignis' strong hands reached up to cradle the back of Prompto's head, his fingers tangling in the silk strands, scratching lovingly in a way that made Prompto melt against him. His other hand, strong and splayed against the small of his back, felt like a familiar anchor, and reminded Prompto _chill, buddy, you're really home_. 

Ignis shushed in his ear, as if he were a child, and Prompto felt that Ignis' ears were pink as the older man leaned down to press a kiss to the boy's temple. Prompto hummed in appreciation, lazily sliding a quick kiss against the mole just behind Ignis' ear. 

"How are you feeling?" Ignis whispered thoughtfully, sentient in a way that Prompto felt was a genuine interest rather than a pleasantry. He shrugged, and, despite the fact Ignis could feel it, still struggled to put it to words. _Lonely._

Prompto shook his head, burying it in the crook of Ignis' neck again and squeezing the advisor tightly against him, the warmth nearly searing between the two of them. 

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long," Prompto whispered, nuzzling where Ignis' collar had fallen open with his nose, feeling oddly melancholy for a moment that should've been joyous. He knew he'd have to leave again, soon, though. It was looming over them, ugly and heavy like the rain clouds in the back of Prompto's mind. 

Ignis hushed him again, playing with the downy hairs at the nape of Prompto's neck with his strong fingers and pressing another kiss to his temple. "Prompto, I assure you it's so much more relieving to me that you are alive and unharmed and here," he crooned in a husky voice, punctuating the last words by squeezing his arms around Prompto's waist, pulling him tighter. He froze. "You are unharmed, yes?" 

Shit, the bandage. Iggy's stupid bat hearing picked up on everything, even the crinkling of tape at his hip. He wished Ignis would just be as enthralled with Prompto's heartbeat as Prompto was with his, feeling Ignis' pulse jump in his throat against his cheek. Prompto cringed inwardly as Ignis removed his hands, placing them on his shoulders instead and pushing him away, being met with the _young man, what's going on?_ dad look he used to give he and Noctis. 

"Just a scratch, Igs," he assured in a voice that was less than confident. 

"Prompto--" 

"I promise! If I was bleeding out, I'd tell you, wouldn't I?" Prompto begged as Ignis picked up his own coffee to move to the table, landing effortlessly into a chair, so graceful he had to have practiced it.

Ignis snorted. "You have a terrible track record about hiding things from me. The last four colds you've had--" 

"It's not my fault I have a shitty immune system!" 

"If you would simply wash your hands--" 

"No, I'm sorry, you're complaints about any faulty MT units must be filed at the Niff office downtown. We don't take maintenance calls after four, sir," Prompto said in an airy voice, landing himself in the chair across from Ignis. 

Ignis' glare let him know his self depricating joke--extended metaphor or otherwise--was unwarranted. Prompto swallowed. 

"Eat your dinner before it gets cold, will you? Your stomach could wake the neighbors." 

Prompto sighed unenthusiastically. "Sir, yes sir." 

\----

The atmosphere shifted after dinner, and Ignis let Prompto read to him. There was no cable, hadn't been for over a year now, but the news ran nightly. Still, Ignis preferred the paper, so Prompto let himself get comfortable between Ignis' legs on their threadbare couch, his chin resting idly just over Ignis' heart, feeling the dull thump of it as he lazily read off the statistics report for the month. Ignis carded his hand through his hair in thanks, and Prompto tried to stay focused, despite how pretty Ignis looked with his head tipped back over the arm of the couch and his eyes closed, hair beginning to fall in his face. His warmth was equally distracting, relaxing all of Prompto's muscles till he was a puddle across Ignis' the words on his phone screen blurring together until nothing made sense anymore, so he clicked the screen into blackness, letting his cheek fall against Ignis' chest. 

Ignis chuckled languidly, letting his hand rest at the base of Prompto's neck, his fingers dancing across the skin and sending lightning bolt shivers down Prompto's spine. "You're tired. You should sleep." 

Prompto shook his head feverishly, pressing closer to Ignis. They didn't have much money left, and Prom knew he had less than a week before he had to leave again. He had to have this, recharge himself with someone, some sort of human warmth and contact to assure that he wasn't losing himself. He needed to spend as much time with Iggy as possible. 

"Wanna stay with you," Prompto sighed, almost childlike, and Ignis let out an indulgent laugh that had previously been reserved for Noctis. "Missed you." 

Ignis smiled sadly, his hand stilling on Prompto's back. "It's a reciprocated emotion." 

_Six, he's so pretentious._ He shouldn't ask, he knew, but he felt it all tumbling out of his mouth like word vomit anyway, and he needed it--

"Can I sleep in your room tonight?" Prompto asked, holding his breath immediately and feeling his face go dark with shame.

He shouldn't have asked. When Noctis was gone, Prompto had started the habit of dragging his ass to Ignis' bed and sobbing his guts out in the middle of night. Somewhere, deep down, he knew he was just a filler, a place card kid for Ignis to wrap his arms around and shush and take care of because he didn't know how to live unless it was for someone else. 

And Prompto needed something to fill up the Noctis sized void that had been left in his existence. 

Still, they had started, and they hadn't stopped--it wasn't like, sex or anything (okay, so it might've been like, almost, but just a time  or two, and only because Prompto's second puberty had hit him like a truck.) It had only been about the comfort, ya know? Soon Prom had stopped going to his own bed at all. 

It got to a point where Gladio was so pissed off about it Ignis had to straight up kick Prompto out of his bed. Which was fine. It was for the best. 

They both still had that void, though. That empty space in their lives they couldn't really fill, couldn't forget about. 

It surprised Prom to hear Ignis' quick and sincere, "Of course." and Prompto didn't restrain himself from reaching up to press a soft kiss against Ignis' jaw, surprised again to hear Ignis sigh, tutting despite his obvious enjoyment, something about him being too indulgent with Prompto. 

Ignis let Prompto take his hands--they were both rough now, to their dismay, with years of hardships behind them that no amount of Prompto's lemon scented body butter could remedy--and lead them back to Ignis' room. It was more concrete than Prompto's, more lived in, but arguably still bare. Ignis had always lived bare, but Prompto supposed the market downtown wasn't really producing any band posters in the post apocalyptic world they were currently stuck in. 

Still, his bed had frame, which was more than he could say for his own. 

Ignis threw himself onto the mattress with a huff, throwing his arms across his face and laughing. It was graceless and comic, making Prompto laugh and urge him to change into his pajamas, watching with interest as Ignis' pale skin flushed pink across the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His hair was loose now, silk and limp against his clean pillowcase. 

He didn't change, just opened his arms to invite Prompto closer, and Prompto needed no convincing to catapult himself across the room to flop onto the advisor, who gave a breathless grunt as the boy landed on him. 

"For someone so small," Ignis groaned breathlessly. "You're awfully heavy." 

"And for someone so deceptively cute, you're an asshole," Prompto giggled, leaning over Ignis, balanced on his elbows. His eyes were closed still, peacefully, and Prompto wondered if it took an awful lot of concentration to keep them that way, not let himself relax and slide them open. At the comment, Ignis' skin heated up, his petal lips parting slightly. 

"You think I'm cute--mm!" Ignis gasped with shock as Prompto leaned forward, cutting him off with a quick kiss to his lips, a high pitched ringing sound echoing in Prompto's ears, his whole body feeling too hot. Prompto smirked against his lips, almost feeling bad--he should've given Ignis some warning. 

But Ignis relaxed beneath him, reaching up to place his bare palm's on Prompto's biceps, holding him in place above him. It was chaste, soft, just a firm press of comfort. A soft reminder, an apology that Ignis had been alone for so long. 

Prompto pulled away, secretly pleased that Ignis couldn't see how red Prompto's face was, and Ignis simply chuckled lowly, ducking his chin to the side, his own face a deep shade in the low light of the room. Prompto nuzzled against his cheek breathlessly, smiling like a moron, letting his nose trace over the scars lining Ignis' cheek. 

Ignis sighed, gave another huff of a laugh, as if breathless. "That was unexpected." He hiccuped another laugh. Prompto bit down on his lip, fighting off another peel of giggles, pressing his cracked lips to Ignis' jaw again. 

"Sorry," he mumbled in a way that Ignis knew wasn't at all apologetic. 

"I didn't say it was unwelcome," Ignis ammended in a hoarse whisper, trailing his hands up again to play with the hair against the nape of his neck, sending soft shivers down Prompto's spine as he went boneless above him. 

"Yeah?" 

"Indeed."

Prompto leaned over again, resting entirely against Ignis' chest so as to not disturb the hand playing with his hair, and chastely pressed another closed mouth kiss against Ignis' rosebud mouth, before pulling away just to watch Ignis chase him. He leaned in with a smirk, gifting him with a soft peck of his lips, then another, then another. Ignis his free arm around Prompto's waist, pressing the boy closer, laying still and pliant beneath him as Prompto leaned over him, feeling accomplished for once in his life as Ignis giggled breathless beneath him. 

"What's so funny?" Prompto grumbled, planting an open mouthed kiss against Ignis' clavicle, earning a soft sigh from the man beneath him, despite the mischievous mirth not disappearing from his grin. "I'm tryna make you feel good, here." 

Ignis reached around with ease, cupping Prompto's cheek with is rough hand, dry from years of fighting and overwashing, a thumb swiping over his swollen lips, briefly making Prompto's mind turn to tv static as it pulled at his lower lip. "Forgive me, my mind was wandering. You always improve my mood, Prompto. Don't doubt that." 

"Your mind was wandering?" Prompto accused incredulously, shifting and sitting back as if to remind him that Prompto was in his lap, trying to make out with him here--Prompto assumed that would be a hell of a lot better than being stuck in this apartment with nothing but the radio all day. 

Ignis smirked beneath him, rolling his head to the side, revealing his sharp jaw and silken loose hair--Prompto would've thought it had been on purpose (Iggy had to know he looked like a fucking supermodel) but it was the scarred part of his face that he bared, and Prompto couldn't help himself as he leaned forward, planing his palms on Ignis' broad chest as he kissed his ruined eye. 

Beneath him, Ignis stiffed, making Prompto immediately feel like the dick of the year, but the smile stayed put, only mildly doused. 

"I was just imagining his Highness' horrified expression upon finding out how I've debauched his best friend in his absense," Ignis sighed, his head still turned into the pillow, the smile on his face too melancholy for Prompto to look at anymore. His fingers knotted in the fabric above Ignis' chest, glancing at the bare wall above his head instead of that longing look on Ignis' face. 

The blankness was worse, Prompto decided, the image of Noctis coming too easily to his head, young and smiling. Too young. Too sad. Prompto didn't want the memories to fade, and he was lucky that they wouldn't--trapped inside his camera. 

Ignis' memory would fade, however, without any reminders. 

"Prompto," Ignis whispered again, reaching up with a blind hand, and Prompto obliged by turning his face into the rough palm, kissing the pad of his thumb. "He will be back." 

Prompto nodded, annoyed that his face was wet, before giving an ugly snort. "Ugh, you're right, he's gonna be _pissed_." 

Ignis laughed again, a bit more organic this time, tugging at Prompto's oversized tank top to trap him again against the warmth of his chest, placing a calming hand against the back of his skull. "Pissed is perhaps a strong word. I'm sure he'll be pleased we've found some sort of way to comfort each other through this mess." 

Prompto nodded, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, wishing his brain would shut up for two minutes so he could enjoy this moment with his friend. Ignis resumed the task of combing out Prompto's hair with his squared off fingers, pressing a kiss with his soft lips to his temple. 

"I am so glad you're home safe, Prompto." 

Prompto let the sob escape, knowing Ignis would hear it no matter what volume it tore out of his throat at, before pressing his wet face against the strong column of Ignis' throat. "Me too, buddy. You're the best friend I've got."

**Author's Note:**

> Yo my first Promnis. Thanks so much for reading all the way to the end! As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, and I hope you have a good life ♡


End file.
